


Anti-kink: Sex in the Water

by ash_carpenter



Series: Anti-kink [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, M/M, Water Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:09:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3895795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_carpenter/pseuds/ash_carpenter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almost at the end of cross-posting my anti-kink fic  (series archived <a href="http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=ash_carpenter&keyword=Anti-kink&filter=all">here</a> on LJ)! Just one more oldie after this and then I'm onto the new one.</p>
<p>Water!sex is very sexy. Never mind the over-inquisitive children, surfers, B&E and wind issues and guard dogs. Ahem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anti-kink: Sex in the Water

**  
  
Sex in the water  
  
**

  
“There’s a troll in Portland.”

“There are no trolls in Oregon.”

“Portland, _Maine_.”

“There are no trolls in Maine either. Or any other state. Idiot.”

Dean pouted. “There might be. Would be pretty cool, huh, Sammy? You could finally fight someone your own size.”

“Hilarious, Dean,” replied Sam automatically, pawing through his bag. Where the hell was his razor? Dean had better not have been shaving his balls with it again. Not that Sam minded shaved balls. In fact, maybe he’d suggest it... With Dean’s own razor, obviously. “What else have we got?”

“Hmm... Looks like something in Florida, just outside of Panama City... Revenant, maybe.”

“Perfect,” smiled Sam, giving up his search and scratching over the scruff on his face. Dean would just have to bitch about getting stubble rash.

“Perfect?” questioned Dean, spinning around in his chair to face Sam. 

Sam walked over and cupped Dean’s face in his hands, leaning down and laying a smacking kiss on his lips.

“Yep. Perfect.”

As he headed for the bathroom, he heard Dean huff out an exasperated laugh. “Gonna share with the class, Sam?”

“Oh,” said Sam casually, pausing to look over his shoulder, “I just feel like fucking in the ocean.”

He grinned as Dean gaped and then cursed, immediately leaping to his feet and following Sam into the bathroom like a puppy chasing after a squeaky toy. “Really? Kinky little bitch... Maybe we should practice in the shower...?”

“Hey, hands off. You know what happened last time.”

“What about head in the shower? That always works just fine.”

“Well, if you insist...”

As it turned out, Dean had totally been using his razor – but Sam couldn’t quite bring himself to be mad about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ‘revenant’ wasn’t so much a revenant as one of the frequenters of a local meth lab. After talking Dean out of shooting him anyway, Sam dumped him on the doorstep of the local police station with the lab address written in magic marker on his forehead. 

Score one for public service.

(Dean might also have drawn a dick on his face, but he probably deserved it.)

Hunt a bust, they turned to more important matters. Namely, hightailing it down to the beach so that they could screw in the Gulf of Mexico.

“Maybe we should have waited till night time?” hissed Sam as he tugged on the garish fluorescent board shorts that Dean – the asshat – had bought for him from the stupid tourist-trap store on the beachfront. Dean, of course, was wearing a perfectly respectable, dull pair of blue shorts. 

“Relax, Sammy,” smiled Dean as he led them towards the water. “We’ll go deep enough that no-one will have any idea what we’re doing.”

“These are stupid. I look stupid.”

“Nah, I think you look adorable.”

“You’re an ass.”

Dean laughed and blew Sam a kiss, receiving a bitchy glare for his trouble. 

As they stepped into the sea, Sam hissed and hopped from foot to foot. “Shit! I thought the Gulf was supposed to be warm?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he waded further into the surf. “Can you please stop being a pussy for, like, ten minutes? It’s not exactly attractive, you know, and I’d really like to be able to get it up so that I can fuck your brains out.”

Before Sam could throw back his scathing retort (once he’d thought of it), Dean let out an entirely unmanly screech and flailed off to his right, almost upending himself in the water. Off Sam’s eyebrow raise, he cleared his throat and said, “Seaweed. I thought it might be, you know, a shark or a piranha or something.”

Sam snorted. “What was that you were saying about being a pussy...?”

“Shut up.”

Once they’d waded out to chest height, with only one additional false shark alarm, Dean stopped and turned in a circle. “This is good.”

“Can’t we go deeper?” asked Sam, glancing back towards the shore. It wasn’t a particularly thriving beach or anything, but he nevertheless felt exposed. “Like, how about if we go up to our necks?”

“Listen, Gigantor. If we go far enough that only your pretty little princess head is bobbing above the surface, we’ll probably be halfway to Mexico – and I’ll have drowned. So stop whining and get over here so I can fuck you.”

“It’s not my fault you’re a shortass,” mumbled Sam, but he still found himself half-swimming, half-hopping over to Dean. Reaching one hand up to slide through Dean’s wet hair, he leaned in for a kiss.

“Stop!” demanded Dean in alarm, looking around wildly. “What are you doing, you moron?”

When Sam just regarded him blankly, mouth a shocked little ‘o’, Dean flicked him on the nose, much to his outrage. “Hey!”

“If we kiss or touch each other, people will know we’re screwing, idiot. We need to be discreet.”

Surprised that Dean even had the word ‘discreet’ in his vocabulary, Sam shook his head and then splashed his brother in lame retaliation for the nose-flicking. “How are we supposed to screw if we don’t touch each other, douchebag?”

Dean looked at Sam condescendingly, like he was the dullest rock to ever plop into the ocean. “We can touch _under_ the water. Just not where any, you know, passing girl scouts or nuns can see.”

“Right. Because me touching your face is gonna look _so_ much less suspicious than me bouncing up and down right in front of you. I mean, what? You think people are gonna assume I’m playing underwater pogo?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’ll just look like you’re...jumping the waves.”

Sam ran a hand over his face. “I can’t believe we’re related.”

Dean glared at him sternly. “Look, just shut up and touch my dick. We’ll take it from there.”

“Your dirty talk sucks.”

They sidled closer to each other, running their hands over one another’s bodies below the water line, studiously looking in opposite directions. Dean might as well have been whistling an innocent tune for all the effort he was putting into focussing his attention elsewhere, as if he wasn’t aware of the six and a half foot tall man floating six inches away from his body.

“This is stupid,” hissed Sam. “We’re not fooling anyone and it’s just weird.”

“Shush. Less talking and more dick-touching.”

As Sam felt Dean’s hand slide inside his shorts, he closed his eyes at the burst of lust and figured that he might as well give his brother’s plan a chance. The contrast of Dean’s fiery-hot hand and the cool water was nice, and the slick sensation punched a little grunt out of him. Opening his eyes to see Dean watching him with a lustful smirk, seawater beading in his long lashes, Sam reached over and palmed Dean’s cock over his shorts. 

“Mmm, yeah, Sammy. That’s it, jus–”

His words were cut off as a sudden forceful wave crashed into them, filling Dean’s open mouth and making him choke. That wouldn’t have been so bad, if the current hadn’t shoved into the surprised hunter and sent him tumbling a few feet closer to the shore. Which also wouldn’t have been so bad, if Dean’s natural instinct to anchor himself hadn’t resulted in him clamping his fist tightly around Sam’s dick.

“Argh!” yelped Sam as he was tugged along with his flailing brother. “Fuck! Let go!”

As Dean regained his feet, he abruptly realised that he’d dragged Sam through the waves by his cock. No wonder he was making such a fuss. Throwing him an apologetic look, he gave a couple of languorous pulls to the body part in question, relieved when Sam’s expression turned suddenly more forgiving.

They didn’t bother wading deeper again; the tide was moving in and the waves had suddenly picked up and turned rougher, so they were fairly well shielded. Sam gave Dean a sly smile and then slid his legs around his brother’s hips beneath the water, slotting his ass up against Dean’s dick. He leaned back a little so that, above the surface, they still appeared to be a respectable distance away from one another, moving his arms in lazy strokes to help keep his balance.

Dean moaned softly and spread his hands wide over Sam’s ass, squeezing and pulling him closer. He rocked them together a couple of times and then slipped one hand down the back of Sam’s board shorts, sliding his fingers down his crack. Sam bit his lip as rough pads rubbed over his hole, clamping his thighs more tightly around Dean’s hips and grinding against him.

The waves had buffeted them in a half-circle, and Sam was facing towards the shore. No-one seemed to be paying them any attention, although Sam had to admit that he was caring less and less about that as Dean’s finger began to press inside, working him open. It was slightly surreal, floating weightlessly as Dean pleasured him, but so far he was quite a fan. He closed his eyes and hummed, pushing back against the questing digits.

Sam’s eyes flew open as he felt Dean tense and heard him shout, “Hey! Watch out!!!” and he whipped his head around just in time to catch a face full of surfboard.

When he came to, what could only have been seconds later, Dean was cradling the back of his head, alternately soothing him and shouting inventive death threats at the surfer who’d plowed into them. Said surfer had hopped on his board and was paddling madly for the shore, tripping over apologies as he glanced worriedly over his shoulder. 

“Yeah, you’d better paddle, sparky! I’m gonna shove that board up your ass! Sideways! Sammy, are you okay?”

“Ngh,” replied Sam coherently, gingerly feeling his temple. There wasn’t really any blood, but a large, hard lump was forming. 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” asked Dean, waggling them in front of his face.

Sam slapped irritably at his hand. “Three, asshole! What the fuck, dude? You were supposed to be watching my six!”

“Well, I’m sorry, Sam, but I was kinda busy playing with your ass. Jesus. Still, the good news is that you’re probably not concussed if you’re bitching already.”

“No thanks to you,” muttered Sam. He realised that his legs were still hooked around Dean’s waist – and, more than that, that Dean’s hand was sliding inside his shorts again. “Oh, right. So as long as I’m not in immediate danger of passing out or suffering permanent injury, it’s okay to keep on fucking?”

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind all that much if you passed out,” replied Dean with his most annoying grin. 

Sam pouted, but he didn’t protest as Dean’s other hand found his cock and began to massage it firmly. He hoped that Dean hadn’t noticed the correlation between how quickly he stopped arguing and how much attention his prick was getting. If he started using that on hunts, it was going to get pretty awkward.

“Hi!”

They both froze. In slow motion, they turned their heads in unison to see that a young boy was treading water about six feet from them, his goggles and snorkel perched on his head.

“Uh... Hi,” replied Sam, swallowing hard. Dean’s hands had stopped moving, but one was still covering his crotch and the other was wedged in his crack. 

“Are you guys peeing?”

“ _What_?” asked Dean, dumbfounded. He tried to subtly pull his hand out of Sam’s shorts, cursing under his breath when his wrist got trapped in the waistband.

“You’re just standing there instead of swimming, and your faces look weird. That’s what people do when they come in the ocean to pee.”

“No! No, we’re not peeing,” snapped Dean, trying to tug his hand free. Sam winced as the shorts pulled tight around his hips, digging in.

“Oh. What are you doing then?”

Dean hitched in a breath, eyes going wide. “Um.” He weighed up the options, looking at Sam’s unimpressed face and then back at the kid. “We’re... Okay, fine, yes. We’re peeing.”

The boy nodded in understanding. “That’s okay. I’m peeing too.”

“Oh, God,” groaned Sam, letting his head drop back.

Deciding that hanging around to screw in urine-infested water where snorkelling children might get more of an eyeful than they’d bargained for was a bad idea, Sam and Dean trudged back towards the shore.

They probably would have been less conspicuous if Sam hadn’t been walking in an ungainly shuffle, holding his shorts up thanks to Dean snapping the elastic waistband yanking his hand free. And if Dean’s ‘sensible’ blue shorts hadn’t been clinging like a limpet to his massive, unsatisfied boner.

“Motel pool?”

“Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They stared down into the ‘pool’ out behind their crappy motel, more surprised than they probably should be.

“Huh.”

“I suppose it was easier to fit ‘pool’ on the billboard outside than ‘dirty hole in the ground with dead leaves and bits of trash and crap in it’,” commented Dean, pursing his lips.

Sam pointed out a used condom. “Guess someone wasn’t deterred by the lack of water.”

“Someone more desperate than us, kid. Come on, there’s another motel up the road; we can sneak in there.”

When they first spied the pool at the Oasis Motel, which had the definite bonus of actually being filled with water, they wondered whether they’d made a mistake in selecting the Sunshine down the road, even if it was ten bucks a night cheaper.

Then they spotted the dead raccoon floating on the scummy surface.

“Yeah, no.”

“Right,” agreed Dean. “Don’t get me wrong, Sammy – I love fucking you in the ass and everything, but I’m not going to be able to get it up if we’re sharing the pool with dead rodents.”

“Raccoons are mammals.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Oh, well, that’s all right then. Hop in.”

“Shut up, I was just...edifying you.”

“Well, thank you very much for imparting your wisdom, professor. But, honestly, I’d rather you blew me.”

Sam sighed irritably. “Yeah, and I’d rather you were eating out my ass instead of talking. So why don’t we just go back to the motel, unless you have any other genius schemes?”

“Hey, this is your rodeo, so don’t get pissy with me. But, as it happens, I _do_ have an idea.”

“You do? A real idea, all your own? Should I mark today down on the calendar?”

Dean inhaled slowly, trying to control his temper. “We passed a new housing complex on the way into town – real nice, probably nice enough to have hot tubs. So, you wanna go break into one? Or you wanna get smacked in the mouth and thrown into dead _mammal_ pool while I drive myself over there and jerk off in a hot tub alone?”

Getting the distinct impression that Dean wasn’t joking even a tiny bit, Sam cleared his throat and said, “I think I wanna go break into one. Please.”

“Good thinking.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Most of the houses on the complex hadn’t been finished, but there were a couple on the south side that were habitable, and Dean led Sam around back of the biggest one, jimmying open the gate. 

“Dude,” hissed Sam as they sidled past the house and out into the back yard.

“What?”

“Doesn’t this place look kind of...inhabited?”

Dean glanced through the French doors and into the dark – but clearly furnished – interior, shrugging. “It’s probably one of those show homes.”

“Oh right, yeah,” agreed Sam, relieved.

“Yahtzee,” grinned Dean, rushing over to the hot tub set to the side of the decking and pulling off the cover. He stuck his hand in the water. “Awesome, the water’s toasty! These property developers know how to show potential buyers a good time, huh?”

Sam smiled as Dean started throwing off his clothes. “We’re not potential buyers.”

“No, but after this I would be very happy to squat here,” grinned Dean, shucking off his underwear and jumping into the tub. “Come on!”

Sam dropped his clothes in a pile beside Dean’s and then stepped in, moaning as the hot water enveloped his naked body. “Oh yeah. That’s nice.”

Sam slid over to the console of controls, peering closely to read by moonlight. He turned his head back towards Dean when he heard a strange squeaky sound followed by a stream of bubbles. He scrunched up his face when he saw the bubbles popping around Dean, his brother trying to look innocent.

“Dean! Did you just fart?”

“No! We’re in a Jacuzzi, Sam. There are gonna be bubbles.”

“Yeah. That might have been more believable if I’d actually turned the jets on yet.”

“Oh...”

Shaking his head at Dean’s unparalleled ability to ruin a mood, Sam found the button for the jets and set them on max. At least if his brother’s flatulence continued, he’d be none the wiser.

Dean jumped a little and chuckled. “Oh, hello. I think I was sitting on one of the nozzles – I feel like I just got power-washed.”

Sam snickered and sidled along the seat, grabbing hold of Dean and pulling him close. As he slid one hand up Dean’s inner thigh he drew him into a light, teasing kiss that deepened the closer his fingers got to Dean’s balls.

Groaning as Sam’s hand closed around his shaft, Dean slipped one hand up into Sam’s hair, leaning back against the side of the tub and pulling him into his lap. As Sam’s weight settled on top of him, their cocks bumping together, Dean panted into his mouth, wrapping his free arm around his back. “Yeah, Sammy... So sexy. Gonna let me nail you in the hot tub, huh? Like...rockstars or somethin’.”

Sam smiled against Dean’s mouth. “Oh, you think you’re a rockstar now, do you?”

“Uh-huh,” agreed Dean. “And you’re my little groupie slut.”

Sam half-growled, half-laughed against Dean’s cheek, grinding down against him. “Will you shut up and fuck me already?”

“Pushy...” Dean kissed him again, gasping into his mouth as his cock settled in Sam’s crack and started rubbing up against him. Mouthing down the column of Sam’s throat and sucking on his collarbone, Dean insinuated a hand between them and started massaging at Sam’s hole, just dipping his fingers inside.

Sam pushed against him, cursing as one finger slid in to the second knuckle. He rocked his hips, shoving against Dean’s belly for friction, relishing the hot slip-slide sensation and the way that the swirling water tickled against his skin.

Dean licked the shell of his ear, pushing his finger deeper. “Want you to ride me. Just sit your pretty ass down on my dick...”

Sam gasped and nodded. “Where’s the lube?”

“What? It’s not gonna work in here. You’ll be fine.”

Sam sat back a little, readjusting his weight so that Dean’s hand was trapped beneath him, unable to move. “Screw you, asshole. You can ride me, then.”

“No!”

“Fine. Where’s the lube?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Pussy. Look, I didn’t bring any, okay? Because it’s not gonna work in hot, bubbling water.”

“It is gonna work! God, Dean. It’s a good job one of us is useful; there’s some in my pants pocket.”

Dean ground his teeth together, exasperated. “Then why are you asking _me_ where it is?! Stop whining and get it!”

Sam huffed, as if Dean was being the unreasonable one, and abruptly stood up, water cascading down his body. Dean was momentarily distracted by the beautiful sight – and by Sam’s thick cock bobbing in front of his face – and didn’t really catch what Sam was saying. “Hrm, what?”

“Is it just me, or is it hot...?”

“Well, yeah, genius. We’re in a hot tub,” murmured Dean, licking his lips. Sam really did have a very nice dick.

“Jus’... Feel a li’l...woo-zy...”

Dean noticed that Sam’s cock was swaying from side to side – perhaps in a teasing effort to entice him into sucking it – before he realised that the rest of his body was also caught up in the unsteady motion. He finally managed to raise his eyes above Sam’s crotch just in time to watch him pitch sideways over the side of the tub and face-plant in their pile of clothes.

“Sam!”

Sam grunted, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “S’okay. I just...”

“Fainted? Wobbled dizzily to the floor? Swooned like a damsel in distress?”

“Fuck off,” muttered Sam, fumbling in his pants pocket while Dean laughed at him and made ‘blushing maiden’ jokes.

Finally he found his prize and clambered gracelessly back into the water, ‘accidentally’ sending a wave of water slapping into Dean’s face. As he settled back on top of his spluttering brother, he squirted a good dollop of lubricant onto his own fingers and reached back to prep himself: he was ready to get the show on the road.

By the time his fingers found his ass, the lube had unfathomably disappeared.

“Dean, it’s not working!”

“What a shock,” deadpanned Dean. “Look, just... Here.” He flipped Sam over in the water, hauling his hips up until his ass was poking out of the water like a lovely, peachy little island, not overly concerned that it resulted in dunking his head below the surface.

Quickly and efficiently, he shoved a healthy glob of lubricant into Sam’s ass and gave it a cursory spreading around. He then slapped his cheeks and pushed them back beneath the water, which caused Sam’s head to pop back up, coughing and wheezing.

“There you go. Hop on, sweetheart.”

“Have I mentioned recently how romantic you are?” griped Sam, but his erection was as healthy as ever and he did as he was told, straddling Dean again and humping against him for friction as they traded kisses.

Dean caressed Sam’s balls and then pressed his fingers back, slipping easily inside Sam’s slick and warmth-relaxed channel. Sam gasped, bumping their foreheads together and reaching down to grasp at Dean’s cock. “C’mon, Dean. Fuck me.”

“Okay,” whispered Dean, pulling Sam’s face in for a kiss as Sam positioned Dean’s dick and slowly sank down on it, moaning and cursing. “Fuck... That’s it, Sam. God, so hot...”

Sam paused as his pelvis bumped against Dean’s body, cock fully seated inside. He closed his eyes, adjusting to the fullness, and gasped as Dean leaned down to lick and bite softly at his nipple. “Jesus... So fucking good, Dean.” He began to undulate, fucking himself on Dean, clutching at his brother’s shoulders as the water lapped and bubbled around them. “Touch me.”

Dean nudged his hand between their bodies and wrapped it around Sam’s shaft, kissing his way back up his chest and neck to his mouth. He began to hitch his hips up, meeting Sam’s movements in smooth, deep thrusts. 

It was a little too hot, both of their heads spinning, and their skin was pruning ridiculously, but they barely noticed, so intent on their spiralling lust.

What they did notice was the blinding white light as the entire yard was suddenly floodlit like Yankee Stadium.

“No, no, no... Fuck!” snarled Sam as the French doors slid open and they heard a high-pitched scream.

“Mom! There are burglars in our hot tub!”

Despite the absurdity of the statement, it was followed immediately by pounding feet, a barking dog and shouted threats of calling the cops. 

Probably not a show home, then.

“Shit,” spat Dean, pushing Sam off his lap and diving over the side of the tub. “Sam, come on!”

They snatched up their clothes just as the dog – fuck, was that a Rottweiler?! – started racing towards them and they both yelped, running for the back of the yard, naked white asses glowing in the moonlight.

Throwing their bundles over the fence, they quickly followed suit, launching themselves over the panelled wood – and straight into the next door rosebush.

Screeching obscenities as thorns became embedded in vulnerable, unwelcome places, they swiftly disentangled themselves and yanked their clothes free, half shredding them in the process. As they doubled back to the Impala as quickly as they could, they both tried to dress while limping along. 

It wasn’t until they were making their final dash to the car that Dean realised his cuffs were dangling past his fingertips and Sam looked like the Incredible Hulk – right after someone had pissed him off. It was possible that their clothing had become switched in the confusion. Busting out of Dean’s ripped clothing like the world’s sorriest, soggiest werewolf, Sam would have made a thoroughly amusing picture if not for the fact that nothing was funny when you had a wicked case of blue balls.

“I hate fuckin’ suburbia,” growled Dean.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What about a fountain?”

“Where the fuck are we gonna find a fountain?”

“I don’t know... The mall?”

“Call me paranoid, but I think there’s a chance we’ll get spotted if we start boning in a city mall during the post-holiday sales.”

“You have no sense of adventure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dude, I can’t even fit in that bath on my own!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam plodded dejectedly back from the library, kicking a stone into the gutter. They’d caught wind of a case in Tampa, but neither of them felt ready to try the ocean again after their failed attempts to have sex in the water. 

Sighing, he unlocked the door to their motel and walked inside, gaping and almost dropping his books at the sight that greeted him.

“So, guess what was on sale at Target?”

Dean was sitting naked in an inflatable pink kiddie pool, half-full because he’d got bored halfway through filling it up with the trash can. It was decorated with Disney princesses, laughing and twirling and generally frolicking. Lord knew where the rubber duck had materialised from.

Sam kicked the door shut, laughing. God, his brother was adorable. An adorable idiot.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get naked and get in!”

Sam did as instructed, amused to discover that his cock didn’t care how stupid Dean looked sitting in a pool quite obviously designed for a four-year-old girl. Kicking off his shorts, he stepped into the tepid water and kneeled beside Dean, kissing him on the cheek.

“I love you.”

“Ugh. Dude, I know we’re surrounded by pretty princesses but try not to grow a vagina,” he replied, but he blushed a little and Sam wasn’t fooled at all. There was nothing his brother liked more than making him happy and they both knew it.

Sam smiled and suddenly yanked Dean’s legs, sending him crashing down on his back and splashing water everywhere. Fitting easily between his thighs, Sam thrust his erection against Dean’s ass and said, “Would it make you feel better if I fucked you with my big, fat cock?”

“Ungh,” grunted Dean enthusiastically, pawing at Sam’s shoulders and trying to get him closer. 

Two minutes later, Sam was about to slide into Dean when he heard a curious whooshing sound. 

“Uh, Dean?”

Irritated at the delay to getting fucked, Dean clucked his tongue. “What, Sam? Christ.”

“Is there a possibility that the pool was on sale because there’s a puncture in it?”

“Uh...”

By the time they’d both come, they weren’t so much having sex in water as screwing on a deflated piece of Disney-themed plastic on an extremely soggy carpet. 

But Sam was totally counting it.

  
  
THE END


End file.
